


If You Wanna

by apterousAvian



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22417039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apterousAvian/pseuds/apterousAvian
Summary: With victory comes partying. And with partying comes after-partying. And with after-partying comes Linhardt being a bad influence.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	If You Wanna

**Author's Note:**

> I'm the CEO of weedhardt the casphardt discord server warned you about. This was all very self indulgent. Tagged for mild dubious consent since they are both doing some drugs. I'm of the belief that they were both pretty consenting, but if that isn't your speed, consider yourself warned.

Linhardt’s quarters are a silent blessing as he closes the door. The victory party had been a raucous affair, breaking out the monastery’s reserve of fine wine and clearing all tables from the entrance hall for a makeshift dance floor. Though dancing usually required more energy from him than he cared to expend, Caspar was a wonderful dance partner. He wasn’t sure who had ever spread the rumor to the contrary, but his toes remained perfectly un-stomped. The joy of both a splendid dance and being the envy of a few certain dance partners was more than enough to make it worth the effort. 

So they celebrated, and for Linhardt at least, the privilege of another dance with the love of his life was victory enough for him. He’d taken brief interlude to be treated to a unique delicacy with Mercedes, and with a knowing smile had shared a laced pastry with her. And after that he decided it would be best to have Caspar kindly lead him back to his room. 

A familiar tingling sensation began to spread high across his cheekbones and Linhardt allows his face to settle into an easy smile. The beginnings of the high then, he sighs contentedly, relishing in how very soon he wouldn’t have a care for his own name, let alone the travesties of war. Caspar looks at him quizzically, chuckling a little and shaking his head at him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so easily,” he remarks off-handedly. This is blatantly false, Linhardt is certain, but finding the words to retaliate is slightly more challenging than normal. 

“Nonsense,” he finally settles on, smiling more deliberately. “I smile like this all the time,” Lin replies airily; feeling smug about how unaffected he manages to sound. Talking is becoming more difficult, Linhardt tends to feel he doesn’t have much to say as his high takes hold. It is a welcome reprieve from the constant noise of his own thoughts, as they scatter and hush. A pang of emptiness runs through him as he considers how far away Caspar is seated at his desk, head resting in his palm absently observing him. 

“Come lay with me?” Linhardt manages, gently patting the space next to him and looking at Caspar meaningfully, the easy smile still coloring his words. He sounds lethargic even to himself, and doesn’t want to bother with keeping his eyes more than half open.

“I thought you took that stuff to help you sleep,” Caspar grumbles slightly, not budging from his chair at the desk. This is hilarious for some reason, so Linhardt laughs, loud and uninhibited. 

“As if I need any help with sleeping, war or otherwise,” Linhardt snorts. “No Caspar, I take ‘that stuff’ because I enjoy it. The drowsiness is simply an added bonus.”

It was a somewhat unspoken decision that Caspar had no interest in using weed with him. Linhardt didn’t usually push the topic and had no desire to pressure Caspar into doing anything he wasn’t willing to do. However Caspar also tended to head up to his own quarters for the evening whenever Linhardt let him know that he planned to smoke. He couldn’t blame him for not wanting to deal with the smell or the daze he would fall into during. But tonight all that had been said and done, and Caspar had followed him into the room anyway, so clearly something in his logic had changed to prompt that decision. 

“You could try it for yourself if you’d stop being such a prude and come to bed already.” Linhardt replies flatly. That seems to jolt Caspar a little, the barest hint of a flush across his nose as he looks at Linhardt like he’d been shocked. The vague notion that that might’ve been too much flits past his brain before he can voice it. Linhardt expects at this point that Caspar will sigh, bid him goodnight, and leave for his own room. To his pleasant surprise, Caspar pulls off his boots, sets them by the door, and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little bit curious about what it’s like,” Caspar admits, and Linhardt’s drug-addled brain delights at the words. He smiles fully again, unable to stop himself. Linhardt leisurely sits up to properly face him and grab his pipe from the nightstand.  
“You don’t have to do this you know,” Linhardt reminds him gently, still present enough to sense the tension in Caspar’s body language despite his words. “I love you whether you’d like to partake in recreational drug use with me or not,” Linhardt raises his gaze to Caspar’s, trying as best as he can to communicate despite the rising feeling of cotton in his mouth. Caspar meets his eyes with ease that speaks to years of trust and communication, but drops it quickly to his lips, then up again, something less afraid and more hungry in his stare. 

“I know. Show me before I start thinking too hard about it,” he replies firmly. And Linhardt frankly doesn’t have the ability to waste his evening doubting, so he simply nods. 

He conjures a tiny flame to his index finger and holds it to the end of the pipe, still full of slightly burned herb, waits a moment for it to begin to smolder. He hands the end of it to Caspar.

“Suck on the end of that” he instructs bluntly. Caspar does; he manages to hold his breath a moment before sputtering out smoke in a coughing fit. 

“Easy, it’s best not to completely inhale, just blow it back out after a moment or so,” Linhardt takes the pipe back in hand and shows by example, waiting a few precious moments before cleanly blowing smoke through his nose. 

“You make it look easy!” Caspar scoffs, and Linhardt wonders absently why this is anything to be upset over. “Let me try it again,” he asks, holding his hand out for the pipe. Linhardt can only smile as he tenderly presses the tip to Caspar’s lips, feeling warm and fuzzy at the way it makes Caspar flush. 

The second pull goes much better, Caspar exhaling calmly through his mouth into the air between them, and then a third, giggling a little bit as he does. Linhardt deftly snatches the pipe back from him, Caspar making a disappointed sound when he does. 

“So, how do you feel?” Linhardt asks idly. His own high having intensified slightly leaves him feeling open and light his body thrumming with it all. The flush across his cheeks is in full force now. 

“I dunno.. Not that different if I’m being honest,” Caspar tilts his head to the side as if trying to sense any change. Linhardt can’t respond right away, at a loss for words, so he sets about lighting the pipe again for a different approach. 

“Caspar, come closer,” Linhardt whispers. Caspar obeys without a word as he leans in to his space, the tension in the air feels heavy as Linhardt lazily sets the pipe between his lips. He takes a slow deep drag from the pipe before boldly pressing his lips inches from Caspar’s parted own, exhaling the smoke into his waiting lungs. Caspar takes it incredibly well for having no warning whatsoever, coughing only once before closing the distance between them. Linhardt’s heart crashes excitedly in his chest as the buzzing sensation in his brain is complemented by the sensory overload of Caspar’s insistent lips. Any further witty comment he may have had to offer Caspar on his maiden high dies on his tongue as he rather shamelessly moans into the kiss. Caspar tenderly weaves his fingers through his hair behind his ear, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. Linhardt’s world has narrowed down to only the places where Caspar is touching him.

When they do break apart what feels like an age later, Linhardt has to take a moment to even remember where he is before noticing Caspar’s subdued state and his very appealing kiss-swollen lips. 

“Think I’m getting it now,” Caspar says in a short clip. “Feel kinda dizzy? And it’s hard to...find words,” he finishes. “But like you must be feeling it like a hundred times more i mean you ate that thing, right?” Caspar tries to recall their previous conversation. Edibles were usually on the strong side for Linhardt, but he was weak for Mercedes baked goods, with or without weed. 

“Mmhmm,” Linhardt finally hums in response, disappointed he wasn’t able to come up with anything else to say. Frankly his only interest in the moment is how he can convince Caspar to kiss him like that again. Except maybe horizontally this time; that would be heavenly. No longer able to find a reason to hesitate, he gingerly places his hands to the fabric of Caspar’s shirt, and pulls as he leans himself back to rest against his pillows. Caspar follows easily, seeming similarly mesmerised as he steadies himself with his palms on either side of Linhardt’s torso to prop himself over him. Caspar’s steady gaze makes him feel warm all over, and as if looking for a way to break the silence, Linhardt fumbles for where he’d set the pipe beside him on the bed, forgotten.

“Think you can return the favor?” Linhardt asks meaningfully, his want dripping into his tone. In his current state he has no filter, no witty comment to hide behind. Caspar either is similarly affected, or doesn’t want to ruin the moment, as he simply nods, carefully taking the pipe out of Linhardt’s hand. Linhardt can’t remember a time he found Caspar so quiet, and so frighteningly handsome as sets the pipe between his teeth, leaning a little closer.

“Gonna need a light, Lin” Caspar grits out from behind the pipe, and something about the way he says it makes Linhardt shiver excitedly. The flame he conjures to his fingertip is a little wilder this time, unable to reign in the way his emotion bleeds into his spellcasting, and its flickering is simply hypnotic to watch reflected in Caspar’s eyes. Linhardt relaxes back against his pillow as he watches Caspar take a confident drag from the pipe, never breaking eye contact as he does, and hold his breath as he casts the pipe aside in favor of crashing against him. 

Linhardt nearly forgets he’s going to have to inhale as all at once as his lover kisses him deep, the smoke billowing out between the two of them as he pulls away to bite at his lip. Linhardt keens helplessly as his senses are overwhelmed. Caspar’s tongue is hot and insistent against his own. He feels like a live wire, flaring with every second as though his body is flashing through a different medium. Caspar’s hungry mouth is what tethers him to reality at all. He lets out a low little whine when he shifts his knee between his legs, reminding him urgently how hard he is. He tries to break away from the kiss to get Caspar’s attention, but he chases after his mouth, a little harsher now, teeth pulling at his lower lip and grazing along his jaw. 

“C-Cas please,” Linhardt pants wantonly, not really sure what he’s asking for. He can’t piece his thoughts together long enough to focus on anything other than how bad he wants, and he certainly hopes Caspar is better off than him to give it to him. He doesn’t have to wait long for a response, as nearly as soon as the words leave his mouth, Caspar ruts his hips harshly against his own and Linhardt’s moan blooms out of him like a vibrant, colorful flower. 

“Hnnn you’re just so pretty like this Lin,” Cas croons low in his ear, his senses pulled in another direction as his breath lands hotly against his ear. He reaches out with open hands and pulls for purchase on Caspar’s shirt, needing him so much closer. Caspar follows easily, slotting their hips together and rolling slowly a few times as Linhardt simply pants wordlessly, too lost in the sensation to do much else. How perfectly indecent it would be to simply come like this, a more awake part of his brain concedes. But he’d like just a little bit more, go a little bit higher as the opportunity to do so in such a lucid state rarely graces him.

Too lost in his headspace for words, Linhardt relinquishes his vice grip on Caspar’s shirt to roam his hands down Caspars torso. He trails meaningfully and a little more forcefully then perhaps he would if he had better fine motor control, before clumsily lowering his touch to Caspar’s obvious bulge in his pants. 

“Ah fuck, Lin,” Caspar exhales sharply through his nose at the contact, but Linhardt continues undeterred, trying albiet unsuccessfully to open the buttons of his fly one-handed. He figures he would have gladly destroyed the fastenings of his pants if Caspar’s steadier hands hadn’t pushed his aside to do it for him. Instead he busies himself with trying to pull his own night clothes down while Caspar still has him pinned in place. He stops at the sight of Caspar’s erection popping free of his smallclothes and moans low and quiet. Suddenly the only thought that seems to have any value at all is how badly he wants to put it in his mouth. 

Before Linhardt can even make a move to offer, Caspar is shucking his pants the rest of the way down and pushing him back down to the bed with enough force to have him bounce slightly against it. Linhardt feels giddy with the pleasure of getting exactly what he wants without having to input any effort, and he goes boneless against the sheets, laughing as Caspar runs his rough palms up under his nightshirt to tease his torso. Linhardt snakes his legs around Caspar’s back, and Caspar comes willingly flush against him. Caspar leans in and reclaims his mouth for more insistent kissing. It’s disgustingly messy at this point, more tongue than lip, but Linhardt can only think about hot he feels. Caspar’s naked cock burns against his pelvis, and Caspar’s entire body weight is on top of him, pinning him helplessly to the bed. There is an undercurrent of low whining that he distantly realizes is coming from his own mouth. 

Just when Linhardt is feel as though he is going to incinerate right there beneath Caspar amongst his bedsheets, Caspar lets up enough to reach down and grab both of their erections together, resulting in a high-pitched undignified kind of squeal. Caspar chuckles at him, in his endearing, sincere way as he slowly starts pumping both of them. Linhardt’s hands fly to Caspar’s shoulders, desperate to hold onto something. 

“Seems like you’re really feeling it huh Linhardt,” Caspar sighs out, slowly increasing his tempo. Another little laugh as he looks down at him lovingly. “I can’t, do words, right now. Hard enough to focus on this,” he admits, his cheeks going pink for the first time since he had taken a drag that night. Adorable, and completely at odds with the way his hand was grasping both of them. Linhardt gets lost in the thought about how large Caspar’s hands are, and he wishes he could join the conversation but can only manage a few words.

“S’Good Caspar.. Goddess,” he slurs and Caspar picks up the pace again. He’s leaking embarrassingly all over Caspar’s fist, and Caspar’s hazy stare seems to egg him on. 

“Lin.. Lin I wanna see you come just like this, all pliant and blissed out, come on, show me,” Caspar grits out. Linhardt’s body responds to that command before he can, and he’s cumming, loud and uninhibited into Caspar’s fist. He lays there, heaving slightly and as he raises his gaze to Caspar’s with a dopey little smile, he’s treated to the show of Caspar finishing with his cum-slick hand. Linhardt playfully spreads his legs a little, easy grin still plastered to his face as Caspar whines and comes all over his torso.

Linhardt blacks out after that. Or rather, believes he has as Caspar collides against him in a heap, blocking out the light. Caspar crudely grabs for his face with his clean hand and kisses him again, and Lin melts into it. The distant, sober part of his brain is disgusted with his current state, but if only for a moment longer he relishes in the slow, loving way Caspar leads their kiss. When they finally break again, Caspar seems to have regained speech.

“Oh wow, Lin that was so hot,” he sighs. “We gotta.. we gotta get you all cleaned up though!” he finishes, with half of his usual energy. Linhardt snorts in lieu of a response. Caspar gets up, and Linhardt can’t will himself to move to watch him, so he stares up at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. Waiting for him feels like an age, and the longer he waits the less able he is to ignore the mess that’s cooling on his abdomen. 

“I feel like a sweet bun,” he says without thinking and he’s met by a confused sound from Caspar as he returns to the room with a warm rag. He wonders how far he had to go to procure that.

“What’s this about sweet buns?” Caspar asks as he sets about cleaning them both, his touch a little clumsy, but loving all the same. 

“I feel like a sweet bun; baked and covered in c”

“ALRIGHT, alright, that’s enough” Caspar hushes him, and Linhardt just laughs, giddy at his own joke and the way it makes Caspar flush. He finishes up and throws the rag off the bed somewhere, a problem for future Caspar. Linhardt allows himself to be gathered up and tucked into the bed properly, Caspar cozying in next to him. Linhardt wastes no time in resting his head on his chest, absently running his fingers along his stomach. 

He lays there, quiet and content to listen to Caspar’s heartbeat. In a rush all at once Linhardt feels overcome with gratitude for this moment. To have Caspar so close to him, and in one piece. He holds on a little tighter as he tries to forget that the war isn’t won yet, their shared future not yet certain, and Caspar kisses the top of his head.

“Mm not goin’ anywhere” Caspar murmurs low into his hair, his calloused hand pressing Linhardt reassuringly closer. Linhardt relaxes fully, exhaling as though he’d been holding his breath without realizing. He closes his eyes and smiles, choosing trust in Caspar’s words above all else as he drifts off.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout outs to my fwiends in the casphardt discord server for always enabling me. Catch me there or on twitter @ chromspouse


End file.
